The Bourne Deception - By Robert Ludlum & Eric van Lustbader Page 0,13
No matter how many of my associates you kill, Arkadin, this I assure you: I will always survive.
Moira Trevor was sitting behind her sparkling new chrome-and-glass desk, in the sparkling new offices of Heartland Risk Management, LLC, her brand-new company, occupying two floors of a post-modern building in the heart of Northwest Washington, DC. She was on the phone with Steve Stevenson, one of her contacts in the Department of Defense, being briefed on a lucrative job her new company had been hired to do, one of half a dozen that had rolled in over the past five weeks, and simultaneously running through sets of daily intelligence reports on her computer terminal. Beside it was a snapshot of her and Jason Bourne, the Bali sun on their faces. In the background was Mount Agung, the islands sacred volcano, up whose spine they had trekked early one morning before sunlight kissed the eastern horizon. Her face was completely relaxed; she looked ten years younger. As for Bourne, he was smiling in that enigmatic way she loved. She used to trace the line of his lips when he smiled like that, as if she were a blind woman able to glean a hidden meaning with her fingertip.
When her intercom sounded, she started, realizing shed been gazing at the photo, her thoughts wandering back, as they often did these days, to those golden days on Bali before Bourne was gunned down in the dirt of Tenganan. Glancing at the electronic clock on her desk, she gathered herself, finished up her call, and said Send him in into the intercom speaker.
A moment later Noah Perlis entered. He was her former handler at Black River, a private mercenary army used by the United States in Middle East hot spots. Moiras firm was now in direct competition with Black River. Noahs narrow face was more sallow than ever, his hair flecked with more gray. His long nose swept out like a sword-stroke above a mouth that had forgotten how to laugh or even smile. He prided himself on his keen insight into other people, which was ironic considering he was so heavily defended he was cut off even from himself.
She gestured at one of the contemporary chrome and black-strap chairs facing her desk. Take a seat.
He remained standing, as if he already had one foot out the door. Ive come to tell you to stop raiding our personnel.
You mean youve been sent like a common messenger. Moira looked up, smiled with a warmth she didnt feel. Her uptilted brown eyes, wide apart and inquiring, betrayed none of her feelings. Her face was uncommonly strong or intimidating, depending on your point of view. Nevertheless, she possessed a serenity that served her well in stressful situations such as this one.
Bourne had warned her even before she set up Heartland almost three months ago that this moment was going to come. Something inside her had been looking forward to it. Noah had come to personify Black River, and shed been under his boot heel for too long.
Taking several steps toward her, he plucked the framed photograph off her desk, then turned it to gaze down at the image.
Too bad about your boyfriend, he said. Got gunned down in a stinking village in the middle of nowhere. You must have been broken up.
Moira had no intention of allowing him to upset her. Its nice to see you, Noah.
He sneered as he replaced the photo. Nice is a word people use when they politely lie.
Her face held its innocent expression, a form of armor against his slings and arrows. Why shouldnt we continue to be polite to each other?
Noah returned to stand with his fingers curled hard into his palms. His knuckles were white with the force he used to make his fists, and Moira couldnt help but wonder whether he wished he had his hands around her neck rather than hanging at his sides.
Im very fucking serious, Moira. His eyes engaged hers. Noah could be a scary individual when he put his mind to it. Theres no turning back for you, but as for going forward in the way you have He shook his head in warning.
Moira shrugged. No problem. The fact is, you have no people left who meet my ethical requirements.
Her words had the effect of relaxing him enough to say in an entirely different tone, Why are you doing this?
Why are you asking me a question to which you already know the answer?